Bronchitis
by elric-logic
Summary: What can dreams tell you about someone, especially if that someone was the orange blur who pulled you from the greedy hands of death? What does family mean to someone who never had a family to begin with? IchiRuki/Multichapter/OOC. / DISCONTINUED.
1. Chapter 1

The splashing of puddles beneath their running feet could be heard, even above the unnaturally loud pounding of raindrops on the pavement surrounding them. Rukia could barely see the path in front of her, and relied on the few tufts of bright orange hair she managed to see beneath the book bag Ichigo was using as an umbrella to guide her forward, as well as his spiritual presence, but that was less of an option due to her constant distraction by the cold, baseball-sized raindrops and the aching sirens in the background. She was too flustered and overridden by her surroundings to even think about Ichigo's spiritual pressure, let alone feel it.

Ichigo was a lot less distracted by the weather. The cold didn't bother him and he had plenty of body fat and muscle to help retain his temperature. He could focus on their path and their destination without giving it much of a thought. He knew the path flawlessly, having walked it countless times throughout his life. Rukia, on the other hand, had only made the the trip in broad daylight and relied on the familiar surroundings to lead her home. He let his footsteps naturally fall to lead him around the correct corner towards him, Rukia barely catching his movements at the last moment and following not too far behind. Due to the sudden quickness of her change in direction, she nearly slipped in the pooled rain on the ground.

Her wool vest clung to her, soaked and heavy and constricting her breath. Her shoes squished out cold liquid with every step she pounded onto the pavement, submerging them beneath the level of water that was the collecting flood. Angrily, she paused to kick off the useless sandbags and continued running in her socks, but it wasn't much better. Her wet hair stuck to her face and intertwined with her dark eyelashes. Her small arms were soon growing tired of stabilizing her book bag above her head, especially when she was still getting wet and it wasn't making much of a difference. She growled to show her distaste in the situation she was in.

Ichigo seemed to sense her distress behind him and slowed himself to a jog. He turned around to watch her as she slowly trudged through the deep puddles, causing uproars of splashing amidst her feet, and caught up to him.

"It's alright, Rukia!" he called, despite her close range. The downpour made it difficult for sound to be heard. "We're almost there!" His words of encouragement failed.

"Why the hell didn't we just stay at the school!?" she yelled back at him. They could have just stayed back until the storm passed, as was advised. This was supposed to be dangerously severe weather, and it goes completely against one's common sense to decide to go out running with the warnings that were severe enough to sound the Karakura Town's sirens. A tornado was supposedly coming, and Ichigo nearly leaped out the window as if there wasn't a care in the world.

Then she remembered Yuzu and Karin and Ichigo's worries, which quickly led to his refusal to stay at the school while they were possibly home alone and scared out of their minds. It was basic knowledge that Isshin worked at the local hospital during this time of day, and, even if he wanted to return home to ensure the safety of his family, he had a building full of patients to relocate, and thus would put his faith into his son. That was why Ichigo insisted on risking running through the storm for his sisters, even though the possibility was equal that they could be home already and that they could still be at school. And, of course, Rukia couldn't let the idiot go out there by himself, as the idea of Yuzu and Karin stuck in a tornado got to her as well. That was how she got herself twisted into the current, distressed mess she was in.

Rukia panted heavily. Normally, she was fast on her feet and full of stamina, but the rain and wind were getting the best of her and slowing her down to exhaustion. What she would give for a letup in the rain, or maybe a lack of wind pushing all the damn water into her eyes and chilling her to the bone.

Suddenly, they both (shockingly) heard a small cry through the pounding and howling. It was that of a child's, helpless and fearful, one that would of course get their attention. Ichigo stopped dead in his tracks, as did Rukia, though she regretted it as soon as the lack of body movement let the cold catch up to her. Her body began to shake but she ignored the cold as best as she could.

"Did you hear that?" Ichigo shouted, receiving and affirmation in response. They both frantically looked around for the bearer of the cry. It was difficult to see, but not impossible.

"Ichigo, over there!" Rukia yelled not too much time later, spotting a small, crying child leaning against a fence and hiding behind his bent knees. She pointed in his direction so that Ichigo could see him as well. The boy was sobbing as he looked up at their rapidly approaching figures, wide-eyed and shaking. It was obvious that he was scared of the noise and devastating amounts of water he sat in. They probably weren't helping much either, two adults running at him and yelling about him as if he weren't there.

"Hey, kid, what are you doing out here?" Ichigo scolded, kneeling down to get on the kid's level. The child reproached and covered his head with his arms. Ichigo received no answer and so he stood up impatiently. While he muttered something about rudeness and prepared to grab him, Rukia studied the boy for. Something was off about him. After taking a good look at him, she noticed it was his figure that was faulty. From what she could faintly see, there was a crying young boy and fence posts that shimmered through his appearance.

"Ichigo, it's just a wandering soul!" she informed him, shielding her eyes from the rain. "I'll take care of him quickly while you go on ahead!"

"Are you crazy? The house is literally right there!" he shouted, bending down over the plus. "We can just take him with us and do the konso inside!"

"Yes, with your sisters possibly watching? Have you got a lecture prepared for them on what they might end up seeing?" He was taken aback, having forgotten the fact that their Soul Reaper duties were unknown to his sisters. He hated to leave a scared soul wandering around in a storm, even though he wouldn't get caught up in it, and as-always stubborn Rukia would do what she wanted, anyway, so there was no avoiding it.

"Fine! Stay with him while I go check inside for them, then when you hear me calling, you get him and get the hell inside!" He quickly dashed away up the street a few yards, and it took a surprisingly short amount of time before she lost sight of him altogether.

The wind suddenly changed directions and blew from behind her, shooting her wet hair in front of her face like a fan. She struggled to keep herself balanced on her knees, which seemed like an impossible task from the brute force of the current.

"You're going to be okay!" Rukia shouted at the boy. She had almost forgot about him. Managing to get some of her hair to stay out of her eyesight, she glanced in the direction of the boy to find him missing. He was gone, just like that, and she hadn't even realized it.

She stood up quickly, looking around for a glimpse or where he might have disappeared to. She came up empty-handed.

She lifted her head with much effort to find the Kurosaki household. She could barely see the outline in the near distance, and quickly thought about her options. She could stay out here and continue to look for the boy who would remain alone and frightened, or she could try to make her way home and hope for the best.

She was about to choose the former when she suddenly heard an animal-like shrieking behind her and felt an odd thud vibrate beneath her bare, numb feet. This force made the wind change its direction on a dime, pulling her backwards instead of shoving her forward. She gasped at the sudden change and turned around.

From the frighteningly dark clouds to the cracking ground several meters behind her was a tall, spiraling vortex of black and debris. The funnel from which it erupted had a strangely demonic look to it. Ear-piercing growls and cries escaped its deadly winds, thundering over the rooftops it threatened. Though it was rather far away from Rukia, she was light enough for its thrashing pulls to consume her and begin to drag her into its grasp.

The water around her feet slid behind her, making it all the more easier for the lightweight to travel. The sudden trauma of realizing her fate if she didn't move came down on her like a stack of bricks. She tried to run. Rukia thought she opened her mouth to call for Ichigo, but she couldn't feel her lips part or hear a sound erupt from her tiny throat. The numbness in her face and the screaming of the wind helped to explain it, but it didn't matter, anyway. Ichigo was inside by now and wouldn't have heard her.

Rukia was determined to save herself. She forced her frozen foot forward, inching just a bit and managing to keep her ground from the demon's pull. She didn't move enough to make actual progress, but it was enough to encourage her to try once more. She stared forward intently, setting her goal. If she could make it to the gate of the walkway, she could latch onto that and give herself better ground. It would have been a good plan had she been able to see what was ahead of her. All her eyes saw were silver and gray, save for one, small patch of orange, that of which seemed to grow closer and closer.

"Rukia!" screamed Ichigo, just as the wind caught onto her again and pushed her back. He caught up to her quickly, thanks to the gravity of the vortex, and stretched out his arms for her. His fingers just brushed the insides of her hands as the current got the best of her and swept her off her feet, hurdling her backwards into the air. The wetness of their hands allowed her to slip away too easily. She kicked frantically and screamed as she rose higher and higher, screaming Ichigo's name at the top of her lungs.

All of a sudden, she felt a tight force wrap around her ankle and pull her down, away from the hold of the demonic wind. Though she was incredibly light, Ichigo was about twice her size in weight, and the tornado had a slight difficulty in picking the both of them up combined. Ichigo used this to his advantage and, quick on his feet, he turned on his heel and sprinted for his home, ducking down to run against the wind.

He had left the door wide open solely for the task of throwing Rukia inside through the doorway, who rolled across the carpet, coughing and spitting. He bolted the door shut behind him and, still moving quickly, picked up her numb body (which he noticed had stopped trembling) and headed for the cellar were Yuzu and Karin waited anxiously for their return. He trustingly left Rukia in their care while he went back up the stairs to bolt the door at the top and to hold it closed while they got to work in stripping the hypothermic girl of her wet clothes and warming her up.

* * *

Ichigo's thumb nail unconsciously scraped at the bottom of the warm mug he was holding. He knew perfectly well Rukia would be alright in the treatment of his sisters, but it didn't ease his anxiety at all. Her body, small and frail as it was, stopped shaking. That was a sign indicating her critical condition, and he didn't like the idea of that one bit.

His thumb nail scraped harder.

"Feeling well enough to sit up, Rukia?" Yuzu said from just across the room. Ichigo rose his head in anticipation and watched as her sister helped the tiny woman sit up. Ichigo stood up and strode across the room in three large steps. He waited for Yuzu to step out of the way.

"Ichigo," Rukia said, noticing him and giving him a tired smile.

"YOU IDIOT!" was his unexpected response. "You're lucky I saved your ass, you damn midget! You could have been killed!"

"ICHIGO!" Karin yelled, punching her brother in the side. "That is no way to be yelling at a patient! It's not like it was her fault!"

"It's alright, Karin," Rukia said gently, hurrying to settle them down. "He's right. I am lucky." She forced herself to smile at the young girl, convincing her that all was well enough for her to be left alone. She turned to Ichigo, who pulled up his chair from behind him and sat down. She lifted the corner of her mouth at him. "Thank you," she said softly. For an unknown reason she didn't understand, she couldn't meet his eyes, which was alright with him. He couldn't bring himself to look at her eyes, either.

He remembered the hot chocolate in his hands.

"Here," he said, lifting the mug to her vision. "Drink this. It'll help warm you up faster." She gently took the mug from his grip and inspected the dark liquid inside. It smelled sweet, which was enough encouragement for her to take a sip. She felt the steamy cream roll over her tongue and slither down her throat, warming up everything it touched. She could even feel it fall into her stomach.

She licked her lips and glanced up at him. It was then that he noticed the faint bruises under her eyes.

"Hot chocolate?" she asked. He nodded. They didn't have this sort of treat back in Soul Society, but she'd heard of this treat during her time in the World of the Living. She'd never had it before and wasn't sure if Ichigo's concoction was how it was supposed to taste. It was supposedly a drink, but it seemed more like a very liquid-like cream rather than a beverage,

"What are these little white things floating at the top?" Rukia wondered aloud.

"They're marshmallows," Ichigo replied. She repeated the word softly and took another sip, this one much longer than the last. She enjoyed the feeling of it traveling down her throat. It felt as if it were warming her very core. The mug in her hands felt cozy as well.

"It's good," she said, giving him a smile. "Thank you." She stayed silent after that, bit by bit drinking the last of the cocoa and handing Ichigo the empty mug when it was gone.

"Ichigo, how will we know when the weather is safe enough for us to go upstairs?" Yuzu asked him. Both he and Rukia turned their heads in his sister's direction.

"I'm not sure," Ichigo said. "I haven't heard anything out of the ordinary, so I don't think anything really happened upstairs."

"Your dad is most likely to let us know," Rukia said. "When the weather clears, he's very likely to come back here and check up on all of us, you two primarily, to make sure we're safe. He'd know Ichigo would bring you down to the cellar, so he would check for us down here when he got home, wouldn't he?"

"Makes sense to me," Ichigo said. Yuzu and Karin, however, were a bit more antsy. They insisted Ichigo go upstairs to check on the house and give them a weather update.

"It's just raining now," Ichigo said, returning downstairs to give them his report. "The only things damaged are the windows on the front of the house. Other than that, I'd say it's safe enough to be upstairs, but just as a precaution I'd rather you stay down here with me, until Dad gets home, anyway."

The twins held on for what felt like forever until their father returned. Hearing his thundering steps above them, at once they raced each other up the stairs to find him and abuse him with their scrawny arms hugging him to death. Ichigo, on the other hand, stayed downstairs, for Rukia had fallen asleep. He waited a long time, watching her rest, until Isshin intruded on him from upstairs, requesting his son's help in installing the replacement panes he had run out and purchased minutes ago.

"You can just take her upstairs and leave her in the clinic," Isshin told him. "While Yuzu's making dinner, we'll have Karin check up on her." Ichigo nodded, then picked up the sleeping girl and followed his dad up the stairs.

* * *

While working, Ichigo couldn't help thinking about the order of events that took place not too long ago. Nothing seemed to fit right. Rukia had nearly been sucked completely from his grasp to her sure death, and now, hours later, the world seemed to be spinning on its axis smoothly and cleanly, as if right on schedule and nothing earth-shattering occurred to slow it down. It was almost as if everybody had forgotten about the deadly event, that Rukia had almost been killed. It had been so close to her that he was sure both of their hearts felt the loss of her life for just one moment, in that one moment of hopelessness before he pulled her into the safety of his hold.

It was just a flicker of despair, and nobody else seemed to care that it had even happened. They were completely oblivious. It made him laugh.

He watched Rukia closely over the next two days. He didn't understand why, but he felt like at any moment she would just up and vanish, as if he were dreaming when he pulled her back out of the current and he was about to wake up. He watched her deteriorate, her eyes sagging and her body slowing with every movement. He watched her grow sicker and sicker. She would excuse herself at dinner after taking four measly bites, lie down and close her eyes and breathe in an odd way, in through her nose and out through her mouth, and scream her denials at being sick whenever somebody accused her of such matters. It was the worst that Friday morning when she nearly fell over after an obnoxious Keigo leaped at her, and the way she held her forehead told her that she was experiencing a rather unpleasant throbbing and was doing her best to not show it. She didn't want to open herself to anybody on the matter, and refused to skip out on class when a worried Tatsuki suggested it.

However, he found that she had no problem letting him see her in her weakest moments.

Ichigo found her in his closet that night after he headed upstairs for bed. Tossing his shirt and socks to the floor, he was confused at first, as the blanket usually spread across his bed was missing. After a quick investigation he noticed a corner of the blanket hanging out from the panel in the wall. He slid it open while tossing his discarded clothing into his hamper and came back to find her large, bloodshot eyes flutter open halfway while he looked down on her frail figure. The stolen cloth covered her from nose to toe.

"I see you have my blanket," Ichigo accused, slightly irritated.

"I need it," she mumbled, then she rolled over to face the closet wall and curled up into the comforter. The curve of her back and the small frame that was her body, combined with the multiple blankets covering her, reminded him of a little ball. Thinking she could share at least one blanket, Ichigo reached inside to grab hold of his blanket, and started pulling. It was then that he noticed her shivering, even though he'd only pulled an inch or two of the blanket away. With sudden realization, his expression softened. He felt rude and intrusive all of a sudden. She had only wanted to sleep in silence, and didn't want to bother anyone with her needs. He knew very well she was sick, but he also knew that she wasn't going to admit it, not if it meant being a burden to somebody who really didn't need it.

He relocated his hand to her forehead, stopping to rest underneath her sweat-damped bangs. He couldn't tell how drastic her fever was, but he knew she was too warm for comfort. She flinched at his cold touch, which only confirmed his thoughts. She was lucky he knew how to help, and also lucky that she didn't have to say anything. He sighed and pulled his hand away to look for remedies in the bathroom. From the medicine cabinet he grabbed a bottle of pills, sticking the tube into the pocket of his sweatpants. He also found several small towels in the closet and wet them down, then filled a small drinking glass with tap water before heading back into his room. He gently kicked the door shut behind him.

"Sit up," he commanded, standing before her once again. When she didn't react right away, and when she did she responded with a mere groan, he sighed irritably and reached into the closet to sit her up himself. She grabbed her forehead which throbbed from the sudden movement, despite Ichigo's careful attempts to move her slowly. Dazed, she looked back at him, then traced his extended limb to spot two small pills in the palm of his hand. He held the glass of water in the other. Her heated mind tried to link the two, as well as try to understand why he was handing him to her, but her mind pulled over to a blank point. She looked up at him sleepily, eyes void.

"You swallow them," he explained. "It's a pain reliever. Actually, only take one. With your weight, two would be too much." She blinked, processing his words, then reached out for one. She turned it over in her fingers, inspecting it.

"What?" she asked. She'd never taken a pill before, and it was apparent by the dumbfounded look on her face. Ichigo groaned in frustration, squeezing his eyes shut then opening them again just as fast. He would just use the second pill as a demonstration.

Lifting his fingers with the capsule in between them, he stuck out his tongue and spoke.

"Like this," he said, placing the pill on the back of his tongue. He didn't need the water, but took a gulp anyway for the sake of the instruction. "Now you. Stick out your tongue." She reluctantly obeyed, and let him place the pill on the back of her tongue. "Now take a drink and swallow it, but don't think about it. Drink as much as you need. I recommend several gulps." Rukia lifted the glass to her lips, keeping her head tucked back just as Ichigo had. She swallowed as much water as she could stand to drink in succession. All that was left slid around the curved edges at the bottom of the cup. The capsule went down without a problem. She looked at him blindly, still unsure. She hadn't felt the pill go down but didn't feel it in her mouth.

"Did I do it?" she wondered aloud. Ichigo nodded. He was slightly impressed. When his sisters were introduced to pill-form pain relievers, they both struggled. Karin didn't like it at first but soon became accustomed to it. Yuzu was still too scared to from the terrifying experiences of them getting lodged in her throat. Rukia did it like it was nothing, no fear, no gagging. He didn't make any comments and went to grab the still-wet towels from his desktop.

"Now, these may seem cold at first," he warned, approaching her with them. "But trust me; you'll feel better afterwards." He instructed her to hold her arms out, palms up, which she had difficulty doing due to fatigue. He laid two towels on the skin between her wrists and elbows and supported her arms for her. She shivered from how cold they felt, despite their lukewarm temperature. She was warmer than he initially thought she was. Using his other hand, he wiped behind and under her ears with another towel, as well as stuffing two more under her knees, which she held up by bending her legs. He gave her a good five minutes of this treatment before removing the cloths and allowing her to return to her slumber. She muttered a thank you before curling up into his blanket. Somehow, from those two short, nearly effortless events, she was exhausted.

Ichigo sighed. He tossed the towels into his hamper and dropped the bottle of pills on his desk. It rolled along the wood, the pills inside whirling around and sounding the room with its presence until it rolled to a stop. He dropped down onto his squeaky mattress, covered only by a thin sheet. He realized, once again, that Rukia had stolen his only blanket.

_Damn that midget_, he thought. After all he'd done for her recently, he was lovingly repaid with a night of cold-ass feet.

Ichigo stood up and crossed the room to the closet, whose door was still open. Rukia, not fully asleep, heard him quickly approaching and turned her head to look at him.

"What?" she mumbled, her eyes barely staying open wide enough to glare at him straight into the eyes.

"I see you still have my blanket," he replied calmly.

"I still need it," she said. He didn't realize until then how hoarse her already-small voice was. Truth be told, his mind had been unmade about how he was going to get the blanket from her. That is, until he heard her suffering voice. It made him have a change of heart.

"I do, too," he said. "Plus, it's mine. I don't have to share the damn thing, you know." She was still processing his words when his arms slipped underneath her, blankets and all, and, careful to not bump her head, slowly guided her body out of his closet. Her pale cheeks flushed as he strolled over to his bed, even more so when set her down. She became lightheaded, and hoped he would mistake it for her being sick. He didn't ever get a look at her face, however. He was too busy leaning over her and closing the window. She watched the muscles in his arm flex separately with the work. The moon's glow, shining in through the pane, touched his skin and paled its tone. When he lifted a leg over her and set his arm on the window down onto the mattress next to her head, she darted her eyes away, looking down to avoid eye contact. He didn't think much of the position, for he only held himself above her for barely a second, as it was in mid-action, but to Rukia, it felt too long. She rolled onto her side and curled up into her ball once more when he fully laid down between her and the wall.

"How many blankets do you have?" Ichigo asked.

"Four, I think," she whispered, trying to avoid the itch in her throat but coughing anyway. Ichigo was again reminded of his decision.

"Share," he commanded, pulling half of the top blanket over himself and allowing her to keep the others for herself. She didn't understand why Ichigo brought her to his bed. She was still just as chilled as she was in the closet, if not colder. At least in the compartment, the air was stuffy and retained her body heat. On top of that, her stomach fluttered at the picture in her mind of her lying next to Ichigo. She didn't particularly like it.

"It was warmer in the closet," she complained, shivering and curling up tighter in an attempt to shield herself further from the tidbit of cold she couldn't seem to escape. Ichigo sighed, then hesitated. Rukia could either react negatively with consequences, or negatively on the inside and keep the consequences to herself to stay rational. He desperately hoped for the latter as he snaked his arm under her blankets and wrapped it around her waist from behind. Slowly, he pulled her against him so that her back felt the heat of his skin, as well as her feet and the back of her head. A raspy squeak slipped out of her mouth from his action, but didn't move. She felt frozen.

"Jumpy, are we?" he commented trying to remove the awkwardness she surely must have felt. He was only doing it for her benefit. He lifted her head to slide his pillow underneath. He closed his eyes, resting his own head on his elbow, bent to create a make-shift pillow. He surprisingly found it easy to relax.

"Idiot, warn me next time," she said, unable to think of anything else to say.

"Go to sleep." It was silent after that, silent other than their breathing. Rukia could feel Ichigo's breath travel over the top of her head. She felt it as it slowed into deep, even breaths. She wondered how he could sleep, with how uncomfortably close she was to him. She also took notice to Ichigo's removal of his arm, or lack thereof. The idea of her being wrapped up in his embrace didn't settle in her fluttering stomach and she wanted it to stop.

She tried to lift his arm and scoot forward away from him, but she was too weak, and his large arm was too heavy. She cursed her sick, sore muscles and gave up, forcing herself to get over her insecurity and submit. She didn't want to, but she had no choice in the matter over her tired body begging for sleep. Her exhaustion won her over, and she allowed her eyes to close. She let the sleep she had anticipated sink her beneath its dark waves of captivity. She thought about how she felt, rather than where she was. She felt warm, secure, and safe, and a deep sleep came over her easily with these simple thoughts wandering aimlessly through her mind.

Rukia didn't get up that next day.

Ichigo's eyes opened first. The first thing he saw was jet-black hair obscuring his vision and he became confused, but then the events of the night prior unfolded in his mind and his questions were answered.

"Rukia?" he asked quietly to see if she was awake. No answer. He sat up quickly, removing his arm from around her first and tucking the blankets under her side to make up for the lack of shared body warmth. He tried to not disturb her as he got out of bed. It was Saturday, so she could sleep in. Not like it mattered. He wasn't going to let her go to school, anyway, and she would have tried to if it were a school day.

Instead of waking up Rukia for breakfast, Ichigo just had Yuzu leave a tray of food on his desk. He didn't expect it to be eaten, but it was worth the try.

Rukia slept for most of the day, except for when Ichigo periodically shook her awake to have her drink a glass of water or orange juice, or even eat a cracker to satisfy the stomach he heard growling. She got up to go to the bathroom once, and when she did that she wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and shuffled out of the room. Coming back in, she nearly collapsed on the bed and fell right back asleep. She slept in his bed while he sat at his desk and worked on his homework. He found himself distracted several times by his constant checking over his shoulder to watch her.

Rukia didn't wake up to eat dinner, either. Nobody expected anything different. Ichigo wondered what she would try to pass that off as, as she would still try to deny being sick. She was a hopelessly stubborn person.

After spending some time playing a board game with his sisters, Ichigo climbed the stairs to go to bed. As he walked, he realized he was half-hoping that Rukia would finally be awake, for she'd been asleep all day and he didn't think that was a good thing. But at the same time, he also hoped she was still asleep. He found himself slightly disappointed yet slightly excited to find her still fast asleep, sprawled out on his bed, snoring quietly by herself in his room. He didn't understand why he stood frozen, unable to move, while his brown eyes traced her sleeping figure just ahead of him. She looked so _peaceful_, he almost didn't want to intrude on her slumber.

_You need to sleep_, he told himself. He forced his body to move, taking a step toward his bed. He kept his eyes off the sleeping girl as he approached, feeling as if his eyes would wake her instead of his movements. He was extra careful when sliding his hands underneath her to move her closer to the wall, and breathed a sigh of relief when she didn't move. He took his spot beside her and did his best to do it without causing too much movement on her end. She stirred once, but she rolled over and went right back to sleep. Ichigo could feel the nerves building in his body. She was facing him now.

_Sleep_, he commanded his body. He fought the nerves and forced his eyes shut, resuming the elbow-as-a-pillow pose. Rukia was in the way of lying his arm down in front of him, so it rested on his side. It was not the ideal position, but he made do with it. He breathed deeply, trying to calm his nerves, and waited for sleep to overcome him.

Before it did, however, Rukia fidgeted in her sleep. Her wiggling caused him to open his eyes. He looked down at the stirring girl, who was moving in an odd way, as if she were trying to bend her body to fit within a small space. She trembled very subtly, and her eyelids were clamped down.

"Ichigo," she slurred. "I'm cold." Her words hit Ichigo in a humorous light. The side of his lips crept up in a smile as he lightly chuckled. Now he understood what her body was trying to do while she slept. He found it slightly amusing. Using the hand that once rested on his side, he pulled her into his bare chest, her skin meeting his. Seconds later she stopped stirring, and she fell asleep with her head tucked down so that her forehead was all of her face that was warming up to him.

Ichigo laid his arm to rest behind her head, and closed his eyes once more. She didn't disturb him again, that is, until _afer_ he fell asleep.

He awoke to a violent coughing fit. The raspy gagging sounds were coming from beside him and caused him to bolt upright in bed. Rukia was gripping her mouth with one hand and holding her chest with the other. Her body shuddered with each cough, and her spine seemed to bend every time she did, as if a huge weight inside of her mouth multiplied as she coughed and it dragged her body down.

"Rukia," he said, trying to get her attention. She didn't do anything to acknowledge his presence, but only because she couldn't. From the sounds of her coughing and and apparent attempts to swallow, Ichigo guessed she had mucus in her throat and her body was trying to rid itself of it. He rapidly jumped up, crossing most of the distance from his bed to the door in that one leap. He hurried to the kitchen to grab a bowl for her to upchuck in and rushed back to his room with it.

"Here," he said, yanking her hand away from her mouth and holding the bowl under her mouth. She grabbed it, still slow with her connection-making and unsure of what to do with it, while grabbed her hair and held it back. His hands supported the bowl for her, gripping over her hands to have better control.

"Just cough it out," he instructed, attempting to talk her through it. "I know it's hard to breathe, but you'll be fine. You have to cough it out, or this will keep happening. It's okay if you throw up. Just cough it out. Even if blood comes out, too, it's okay. We'll just have my dad look at you tomorrow. For now, it's just a build-up that your throat wants to expel. This is a normal thing. I mean, it doesn't happen every day, but it's not unheard of." He spoke his words in as soothing as a manner as he could, hoping that would help her. Slowly but surely, she coughed most, if not all, the mucus out. She hadn't coughed up blood, which was a good sign, but she told Ichigo that it felt like her throat was raw. Ichigo rinsed out the bowl in the bathroom and let it soak in rubbing alcohol for good measure, then returned to Rukia in his room, who sat rubbing her aching chest and throat.

"I'll make you some tea," he said despite the time of night, extending his hand to her. She nodded a sleepy nod. Wrapping a blanket around her shoulders, she took his hand and tried to stand up, only to stumble from weakness in her legs. With quick reflexes, he caught her under the armpits and set her back to sitting on his bed. He groaned quietly to himself as he turned around and bent down so that she could climb onto his back. Rather than gracefully wrapping her legs around his waist and gently lifting herself up to relieve him of some of her weight, she sort of fell forward and let him do all of the work. He groaned again from the impact, not from her weight. With his immense strength and her lightweight body, she virtually wasn't there. She tucked her face into his shoulder and let her tired eyes close while he carried her downstairs.

Ichigo left her to lay on the couch in the family room while he prepared her tea. He went through the effort of searching for honey in their many cupboards to add to her drink. He hoped he didn't put too much in as he stirred. She drank it heartily when he brought it to her, desperate for some warm relief in her crying throat. Ichigo watched from his kneeling position on the floor in front of her, keeping a hand under the mug to help support it for her. He looked at the analog clock on the wall. It was nearly four in the morning. When Rukia finished her drink, Ichigo set the mug on the carpet and looked back at her.

"Did it taste alright?" he asked, lowering himself to a sitting position. The exhausted female yawned before answering, causing him to yawn in turn (_A/N: & me, both times during writing & editing_).

"The honey definitely helped," she whispered, scared to speak in fear of causing herself pain. Her eyes fought to stay open.

"How are you feeling now?" Ichigo asked, grabbing a pillow from the other end of the couch and stuffing it under her head for more comfort. He figured she'd want to sleep downstairs where he noticed it was warmer.

"I'm feeling a little better," she faintly spoke. Despite the sleep she'd accumulated throughout the day, she was still very tired. Unable to keep them up, she let her iron-heavy eyes win. Ichigo watched her violet eyes flicker. He, too, felt the heaviness pulling down on his lids. The worrisome adrenaline that had coursed through him minutes ago was long gone. It was warmer in the family room, something that was drawing out the sleepiness in the two of them. Rukia hadn't shivered once since he brought her downstairs.

"Alright then," he said, standing up. He decided to leave Rukia down on the couch while he went up to his room. He lifted his arms, leaning back and stretching all of his upper body as far as it would go. "Goodnight," he said, stepping away. She reached out a grabbed a hold of his sweatpants, stopping him in his tracks. She whispered something too quietly for Ichigo to hear. He bent down to hear her repeat.

"Stay down here with me," she whispered. Her eyes were already naturally large and gleaming, but in that moment, they were too wide. Was she nervous? "At least until I fall asleep."

"What the hell am I supposed to do until then?" he groaned, rubbing his eyes. Looking at her eyes again, he gave in. His body slumped to the ground beside her once again. Rukia breathed a sigh of relief.

"You could talk," she said. "For starters, you're an idiot. You have orange hair and you're wearing red." She smiled in her failed attempt to be humorous. Even though she got the colors confused, it worked on him. He smirked.

"That's for redheads and the color pink, midget," he replied. "Close your eyes." He outstretched his arm to gently pull the lids down himself, despite his instruction. She laid her hand on his wrist, encouraging him to rest his arm on her chest. He was reluctant, believing it would be too heavy for her weak body to handle, but she insisted. He put in the effort of holding his arm above her chest to lessen the weight, anyway.

"You're not talking," she whispered, her eyes remaining closed. "Talk me to sleep." He looked at her for a long moment before saying something.

"Your hair is dark," he lulled, lifting his free hand to take a small strand of the silk into his fingers. He moved his fingers over the softness, and rubbed it between his fingers. "It's soft, too. It frames your face quite nicely, I have to say. You wear it well. What's your secret?" She didn't answer, but he knew she wasn't completely asleep because of her fingers curling around the hand on her chest. He shiftrf his arm to have his elbow on the couch, but kept her hold on his limb.

"Your skin is soft, too," he continued in his soothing voice. He watched her face relax as he spoke to her. "Like butter. It almost seems creamy. What is your secret to that? You're just full of secrets, aren't you, midget?"

Isshin Kurosaki walked down the stairs at five thirty in the morning, work bag in hand, straightening his tie, to find that his idiot son left the kitchen light on again. With a loud, annoyed sigh, he crossed the room to turn it off before he leaves. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted obnoxious orange. He turned towards the spot, where he found Ichigo asleep, sitting on the ground next to a sleeping Rukia, who laid on the couch. Ichigo's head rested halfway on Rukia's stomach and the edge of the couch, her hands in one of his, and his other hand on the dangling in front of him.

After deeply analyzing the situatution, he found himself struck with a decision; to let them continue to sleep, or to wake up Ichigo. Should he allow his son and the young girl they took into their home to continue sleeping so close together and trust in them, or remove his son from the situation and prevent anything compromising? He studied Rukia's peaceful face. The poor girl, sick and downright refusing to admit it. She must have been the reason Ichigo was up and about earlier into the night, moving things around and making a ruckus.

From the way he was sure Ichigo let himself fall asleep there, by her side, and from they way Rukia seemed to gravitate to his hold on her hands, even in sleep, he could feel his parental instincts shoving caution and apprehension into his brain. Any parent would want to be.

Isshin ended up walking away, leaving the two be, putting faith into his son and hoping that he was making the right decision.

* * *

**If you came here because of the update and there is NO second chapter, then the update this story received was an edited version of what you read prior to the update. I feel it turned out much better. The first time I wrote it, I sort of rushed through and didn't have much time to put everything I wanted to. Also, if you noticed, several things were changed/removed, and I have reasons for all of them. Again, I feel this was for the better.**

**There WILL BE a second chapter to this story, if not more. Expect it ON OR BEFORE August 30th (2012).**

**Thank you for your support. It is greatly appreciated. **

**.elric-logic**


	2. Chapter 2

I have no fucking clue where to go with this.c.

Winging it

Fuck yes

((I really shouldn't be writing this, because I need to get started on my novel.c. From this point on, (since I am titling it 'Cursed') if I ever refer to my novel, I am referring to cursed, and vice versa. And it will have nothing to do with _Bleach_. Really, ever. But wait! These are like my exercises for toning my writing skills! Fuck yes I got this I have convinced myself over don't worry guys.))

^pointless rant, don't mind it

I hope there aren't any grammar or spelling mistakes.c. It's past my bedtime and I need to get to sleep, and therefore do not have time to reread. I hope you enjoy it, anyway, even if there are mistakes.

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of or relating to _Bleach_ (such as but not limited to characters, events, or concepts), as those are owned by a troll named Tite Kubo. Any sort of brand name material or copyrighted names referenced or used in this work are also not owned by me, but the creator (or holder of the rights), and whenever used in this work they will always be italicized. **

* * *

"Oi, midget," called the tall redhead as he entered his home through the door off the kitchen. "I brought your homework for you. Where are you?" He dropped his keys on the counter with a clang, kicked off his shoes, and delved further into his home. From the lack of preteen girls seen by his amber eyes in their usual after-school spot of the dinner table overflowing with schoolwork, he knew his sisters were not home, and that he would go without a scold for his unnecessary yelling in the house.

He didn't receive any sort of response from Rukia the first time, so he called out to her once again.

"Rukia, you awake?" he yelled. He dropped his book bag on the table and pulled out the shirt tucked into his uniform's pants. Loosening the tie, he pulled off the matching jacket and dropped that onto the table as well, then went to look for the shinigami. His search didn't last long, for right as he called her name the second time, he heard a muffled groan come from the couch not far from him. He watched her sit up, dazed, hair sticking up in a way that she wouldn't fancy anybody else seeing.

"What's with the yelling, Berry?" The raven-haired girl leaned forward, her wool blanket falling from its rest on her chest to her lap. Her small hand clenched her forehead, that of which throbbed like mad, her eyes clenching from the discomfort. "There are sick people here trying to sleep." She sniffled.

"It's just you, idiot," he shrugged. "So it doesn't matter if I yell." He walked over to the couch to lean on the back of it, his arms crossed. He looked down on the sickly soul reaper, waiting until she opened her eyes again, then pointed behind him at the table to his book bag. "Your homework is in there. Stop sleeping on the couch. You're going to spread your disgusting disease to the rest of my family."

"What, so you want me to sleep in _your_ room and put yourself at higher risk of getting my disgusting disease?" She rolled her eyes at him, closing them and then rubbing them. She sniffled again. She jumped at the sudden feeling of his hand ruffling her hair, gently to keep from bothering her headache.

"You just admitted you're sick, dummy," he said in a low tone, leaning closer to her ear as if to keep it hidden from the bodiless people surrounding them, listening in. He received a swift punch to the jaw from the temperamental woman in front of him.

"Shut it, Berry," she grumbled. "I'm _not_ sick." He groaned as he rubbed his jaw. She may be ill and weakened from the disease, but she still had a packed hit. He could already feel the beginnings of a bruise forming under his skin.

"Then go sleep in my closet, and _not_ where everyone is breathing your _healthy_ air," he retorted. She snapped her head away from him, immediately regretting the action from the painful aching in her skull.

"Stop bugging me about it," she said defensively, after rubbing her temples to sooth the tender nerves.

"Need some pain reliever for that headache?" Ichigo offered, strolling back to the dining room table to pick up his school things. She didn't give him an answer right away, at least not until after he fixed his implication. "I mean, for that unnatural headache you have? It's _so weird_. What did you do, bang your head on the door handle?" In response to his witty remark, he received a face full of lovely throw pillow, small hairs clinging to the fabric and everything. He lowered the pillow from his face with a smirk, the expression growing in amusement with the exasperated look on the small shinigami's face, her small arms crossed beneath her modest chest.

"I may be short, but I'm not _that_ short, you fool," Rukia fumed.

"Right," Ichigo replied, heading for the base of the stairs. He turned, looking back at her. "I better see you on my bed and working on your homework by the time I'm done getting those pills ready for your that peculiar headache of yours." She glared at him while he turned and waltzed up the stairs, stepping out of sight. She could hear his heavy footsteps on the upper floor as he made his way into his bedroom, and as they continued into the bathroom. She sighed.

Carefully swinging her legs over the sofa's edge, she pulled her woolen blanket over her shoulders, staring at the intricate pattern laced into the red cloth that she'd memorized from staring at it in between hour-long naps. It had been her best friend over the past few days, keeping her warm and keeping the cold out, and even during fevers when it'd kept her from getting the chills. From the way Ichigo described it, it was something she did not wish to experience.

She groaned, tightening her fingers' hold around the blanket's edges and heaving herself up onto her feet, only to sudden collapse on the floor with a painful yelp from the collecting pain inside her knees and ankles, and from the collision of her forehead and temple into the coffee table not far from the couch's front. Curling up on the rug, she felt a rush of blood go to her head, washing over her eyes while her body cringed at the immense pain shooting around her head, agonizingly ricocheting off the inside of the skull. Her hands gripped her head, crying out, feeling unwanted tears drip from her eyes down her red cheeks. The crash hit her head like a stack of bricks dropped from above.

Upstairs, Ichigo had just finished filling the small glass with water from the tap, spinning the handle to shut off the water with his free hand holding the bottle of _Ibuprofen_. As he stepped out of the bathroom, his ears detected the sound of a bang from downstairs and distressed reiatsu. The glass in his hand was suddenly unimportant, and shattered on the wooden floor where his sturdy feet had just stood, joined by a pool of chilled water and a small bottle of rolling pills in the mess, all lying forgotten in the midst of the sounds of a writhing woman screaming.

Bounding down the steps with such speed that would make Kuchiki taichou proud, Ichigo stopped at the bottom of the stairs to take in the room before him, a cringing, crying Rukia on the floor, curled on her side and pulling at her hair. He was at her side in an instant.

"Rukia, what happened?" he demanded to know. Putting a hand over hers, he gently pulled at her fingers, prying them of their death grip on her onyx locks. Her pale fingers latched onto his, clean, manicured nails digging into his skin, sharing her immense pain with him.

"M-my head," she whined, her voice breaking and strained. She couldn't open her eyes. The massive throbbing within her skull pounded at her temples and the back of her eyelids, threatening to burst, and the sting on her forehead burned. Surely a nice, round bruise was forming just above her right eye. "I fell." She couldn't manage to make any more words, or sounds other than her shaky sobbing as her shoulders shook.

"Just…" Ichigo began with a sympathetic voice, squeezing her hand back to relieve her the pressure. "Just lie still and wait for it to pass. It will eventually, I promise." He kept his voice low and smooth to sooth her ears. He cradled her head in his other hand, sliding it up into his lap with caution. To help calm her, he stroked her hair, hoping the endorphins would help put her at ease.

Slowly but surely, her uncontrollable sobs became rare, in between her whines and sniffles. He watched her eyes relax from their clenched tension, her hand's grip on his softening and falling limp. Her eyes drifted open, drooping, lying still as his hand combed her dark tresses, brushing over her ear. Her ear swallowed the comforting sound of his movement. Her tears slowly dried and crusted over her cheeks as she breathed deeply and slowly, keeping herself from crying out at the ache in her knees, the soreness now spreading all over her spent, sick body.

Ichigo was scared to say anything. The room was filled with dead silence, broken constantly by her heaving breaths. He was scared that if he spoke he would disrupt the calming ambiance she created for herself and she would break out those embarrassing tears again in front of him. She didn't have to say anything for him to know about her distaste for the state he saw her in; he could feel her shyness. But she didn't have any other choice other than to lay there, at his mercy for comments on her downgrading appearance.

Ichigo breathed deeply and spoke on his exhale.

"What happened?" he asked, keeping his gaze on a spot on the wall across the room, his hand not bothering to halt in its comforting movements. She lifted a shaky hand out of his feeble, forgotten hold to brush a strand of hair out of her eyes, despite its return to its spot on the side of her nose. She tried again with a fruitless attempt, then dropped her hand, giving up.

"When I stood up my knees just gave out," she explained in a shockingly raspy voice. The sobbing had made her throat pink and raw just as her coughing fit a few nights ago had done. She cringed at the startling tenderness in her throat, gripping the fabric of Ichigo's pants, clamping her eyes shut.

"And then you hit your head on the table," Ichigo finished for her, guessing what happened. Her body was so used to sitting that the blood circulation in her legs decreased to a meager amount. "That's what you get for lying on your ass all day, every day." Instinctively, he flinched, as if _expecting_ the punch she _would_ have given him, had she been able to. Instead, he got a pathetic pinch on the thigh and a pitiful, pained moan to serve as a menacing growl. He smirked, as well as frowned. It was nice to have a break from her abuse, yet sad because she physically couldn't and was at his mercy, and that alone was likely stabbing her pride in the gut repeatedly, but she wouldn't admit it. _I'm a Kuchiki_, she would say. _Kuchikis don't give in to weakness_.

He sighed, deciding to be sympathetic like the kind man he was. It would hurt his conscience if he disgraced her. He moved his hand from her hair to her shoulders, cradling her head against his arm, lifting her slightly. Sliding his other hand under her thighs, he lifted her off the ground and got to his knees.

He tried to not take notice of the light blush covering her tear-stained cheeks, but couldn't avoid her wide, questioning eyes.

"Come on," he said, as if he _needed_ to coax her. It wasn't like she was already in his arms or anything, or that she had no choice in the matter. "You're going to bed." Her eyes slowly slid back to their normal size, but the pink in her cheeks barely faltered. She said nothing, as did he.

He stood up carefully, hardly grunting at her weightlessness as she floated without a throb from her aching cranium. He climbed the stairs sideways to keep her small head from colliding with the wall of the passageway. At the top of the stairs, he found the glassy, hazardous mess he left behind not too long ago. He carefully stepped around it, using his long legs to arch over the mess and stepping on his tiptoes until he was far enough away to continue to his room without a caution in his steps.

He left her alone on his bed, letting her find a comfortable spot to rest, to go back and clean his mess. He returned with a dreamy pill that Rukia was more than eager to swallow.

* * *

"Here's your tea, Rukia," said a small brunette with a bursting smile, cupping a white porcelain trinket filled nearly to the brim with a steamy, honey-scented treasure in her young hands.

"Thank you, Yuzu" rasped the shinigami, her horribly rough voice barely audible. Yuzu gave her an empathetic smile, holding out the cup for Rukia to grab hold of. The weak woman wrapped her cold fingers around it, feeling the warmth radiating from the drink spread on the surface of her fingers. It made her sleepy, but she wasn't about to nap.

Lifting the cup's edge to her chapped, Rukia sipped in a decent amount of tea into her mouth, the hot drink rushing past her teeth and over her tongue and down her throat, leaving behind a soothing relief to the aching muscles inside her esophagus. Her eyes closed in ecstasy; the honey felt great running along the wound-like flesh of her throat.

"Does it taste good?" Yuzu asked, rocking back and forth on her feet, having watched Rukia as she sipped her tea. She was curious to know if she'd made it correctly, or at least like Ichigo's tea. Ichigo had always been the one to make tea for them when they were sick.

Rukia nodded with a smile, then sipped more of the drink, her edgy throat capable of more than she initially thought.

"Is it as good as Ichigo's?" Yuzu teased. "Probably not. I tried to make it like his because I know he's made you tea and I know it's really good. I thought you'd like to drink it as many times as you can." Her smile didn't break once through her short speech.

"That's very considerate of you," Rukia croaked. She returned the smile, broken once again by her tasting the liquid healing pleasure.

"Oh!" she jumped, hearing something that Rukia didn't. "That must be Ichi-nii with the groceries! I'll be right back, Rukia, don't go anywhere!" And with that, the preteen left Rukia alone in Ichigo's room with a warm cup of tea and questions concerning her seemingly-faulty hearing abilities.

As soon as she could no longer hear Yuzu's dainty footsteps frisking down the hallway, she turned her head away from the direction of the door and stared blankly in front of her. What day was it? She'd been incapacitated for so long, shuddering from stomps from the giant that lived in her head, her raw throat keeping her painfully alert constantly, that she had lost track of time. She wondered how much of school she missed. Ichigo had only been bringing her her homework for a few days now, hadn't he?

School. A part of her yearned for her fr—_Ichigo's_ friends, missing seeing them every day. Still, she thoroughly enjoyed the break. She'd never had any sort of relaxation like this since before her days as a Soul Reaper, and even then she had to fend for herself. Now, Ichigo and his family were taking care of her.

Even as a noble, who was used to such matters of being cared for, she wasn't accustomed to caretaking of actual _care_. Kuchikis were of status; they received top-of-the-line medication, instantaneously curing any disease, and were spoon-fed five-star feasts simply to be satisfied. Anything they wanted, they had. Kurosakis were of heart; they'd walk all the way to the market across Karakura Town for pain reliever if it meant their loved ones wouldn't have to suffer another night, and would get up in the middle of the night to get you a glass of water. They made sacrifices for you. Not because it was their job, but because they _wanted_ to. And they treated her as if she were a part of their family.

Her small hands gripped the mug in her grasp, clutching it closer to her chest. The sweet, wafting aroma floated into her senses, complimenting the tiny, sad smile creeping at her supple, chapped lips. She already belonged to a family, and it wasn't the Kurosaki family.

"Oi, midget, you awake?" a young man's voice chirped from the hallway outside of the bedroom, interrupting her thoughts. With a few more thudding footsteps, Ichigo's head popped into his room, his body following him inside to see the tired shinigami looking back at him. She greeted him with a smile after sipping more of her cooling tea. She suddenly remembered Yuzu's promise of returning and wondered what had been said to make that change.

"Hey," Ichigo said, continuing across his room. He sat down on the bed near her feet as he continued to speak. "We're eating early because Yuzu and Karin have plans, so she's just heating up leftovers. And tonight, you're _going_ to eat _something_. I don't care how upset your stomach feels. They miss you at the table. Come on." He nodded his head in the door's direction. _They_, as in his sisters, she guessed. She really hadn't spent much time with them since she'd been… relaxing.

"Ichigo, how long have I been…" Her fingertips drummed the mug in her hands. He knew the word that she let hang in the air, unspoken, and nonexistent, as far as she knew or cared to acknowledge.

"Well, today is Friday," he replied, running a hand through his thick, orange hair while he thought briefly. "So basically a week."

A whole week? Her time spent lounging around, sleeping, and sweating didn't feel like it had been that long, but at the same time, lying awake and staring at the ceiling in the middle of the night with a burning gape in the middle of her neck had made it feel longer than that. She didn't know what to make of that.

"Ichi-nii! Rukia!" Yuzu's call chimed from somewhere downstairs amidst a hungry, waiting family, signaling the start of the meal she hurriedly put together.

"Come on, midget," Ichigo said, a slight grunt in his voice as he stood up, now towering over her. He grabbed her mug half-filled with a knockoff of his delicious tea and set it down with a quiet thud on his desk. "Karin gave me permission to throw you over my shoulder and carrying you if it meant you'd be joining us." He started to bend down towards her frame, hands aiming for her hips to carefully lift her, but her hand unexpectedly met with his halfway. He paused.

"No need to manhandle me, berry," Rukia whispered. "I'll come quietly." Pulling on his hand, she sat up fully, then wrapped the blanket on her lap tightly over her shoulders, holding it closed with a single hand. Still clinging to Ichigo's outstretched hand, she put in the effort of standing herself up, Ichigo holding her steady and keeping her pace slow, so as not to pass out as she was likely to do.

"Slowly," he warned, keeping her focused on standing up carefully. She wasn't exactly the most patient woman on the planet (or in Soul Society, for that matter).

"I'm fine," she croaked. Ichigo couldn't help but chuckle at the sound of her voice, or lack thereof.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" he mocked. He caught the fist she threw at him, his other hand leaving hers to recapture the blanket that had begun its descent to the hardwood beneath their socked feet, forcing her to keep her balance simultaneously. "Don't bother trying to hit me. I won't feel it."

Rukia scoffed in defeat, yanking her fist from its sheathed warmth within Ichigo's large hand and nearly stumbling backwards, held stiffly upwards by the tall male, and grabbing her now-throbbing skull. She moaned in pain and frustration, flustered by her impulsive actions getting her nowhere.

"I'm going to manhandle you, anyway," he said quietly, letting her grab a hold on her blanket in place of his hand, that of which crawled down her arm to her wrist. He lifted his second hand to her other wrist, turning and lowering himself to his knees. He pulled her forward, her arms around his neck until she was pressed against his back, keeping the blanket tightly in place. He let go of her wrists and hitched his hands under her thighs, standing up slowly to keep her head from rushing.

Somewhere downstairs, five plates of reheated braised meat and potatoes were set down with a clatter, the smallest helping sat alongside the largest, that of which had some competition with the plate resting in the place of the head of the table. Sure, Isshin, being a grown male, ate a lot of food in each meal, but it fell short of Ichigo's intake, as he was a growing male who ate too much food in each meal.

With all the plates set on the table, Yuzu returned to the kitchen to grab the five glasses of milk she had poured for everyone, starting with the two for her brother and Rukia.

"Rukia!" Karin yelped from her chair, overjoyed to see the small woman resting on her brother's back. It had seemed like forever since she'd had dinner with them, let alone ate an actual meal.

"Well, well, long time, no see, sweet third daughter of mine!" Isshin greeted loudly, leaning forward on his palms pushing into the tabletop, goofy smile taking up half of his face.

"Good to have you back with us, Rukia," Yuzu smiled as Ichigo set the tired-yet-beaming woman down near her designated chair. Rukia wobblingly took her seat, using the table to keep balance and lower herself into the wooden chair.

"Thank you, Yuzu," Rukia forced out, both at the greeting and for the drink Yuzu set down in front of her, paired with the glass at Ichigo's place at the table.

"Of course," Yuzu responded sweetly.

"So Rukia," Karin began, leaning forward on her hands as her elbows dug into the wood of the table. "How are you feeling? Yuzu's tea didn't make you gag, did it?"

"Karin!" Yuzu retorted from across the counter. Karin simply smirked and left the question said, not taking it back, expecting an answer. Rukia opened her mouth to speak, but Ichigo cut her off.

"Leave her be, Karin. She doesn't need to hurt her throat any more than what it probably does by talking."

"I'm fine, Karin, thank you," Rukia managed, despite Ichigo's comment.

"You see, Ichi-nii?! She can speak for herself," Karin bickered.

"I was only looking out for her, Karin," Ichigo snapped back. Dark grey eyes bored into amber, tension rising into an imaginary line, falling down from his face to hers.

"Stop fighting, you two," Yuzu scolded. "It's not proper etiquette for the dinner table." She left it at that as she set down a platter of yōkan in the center of the table and a glass of milk for her father in front of him. Immediately, Isshin's hand reached out and then darted away from the yōkan on its own plate at the center of the table, having been swatted at by Yuzu's quick hand. She gave him a stern look before walking around the counter and back into the kitchen for her and Karin's glasses of milk.

"Dad, you're such a pig," Karin mumbled angrily. "You're not the only one who was waiting for it to chill. Be patient, damnit."

"WHAT?!" the man exploded, jumping from his chair and slamming his fists on the table, sending his chair backward into the wall. "DID YOU JUST _CURSE_, _KUROSAKI KARIN_?!"

"Calm down, old man!" Ichigo said loudly, holding his and Rukia's cups steady from the tremble caused by his father's sudden action.

"CALM DOWN?! Why the hell should I _calm down_? _She probably learned it from you_!" With his words, he flew at his son, wide-eyed and red in the face. He received a swift punch from the substitute shinigami, along with a strident retort.

"Calm down, because _it's not that big of a deal_! And you do it, too, you hypocritical bastard!"

"There you go, with those damn poisonous words! She's twelve! She shouldn't be saying words like that!"

"Not like _you_ didn't curse when _you_ were twelve!"

"Oh, shut up," Karin grumbled, leaning on one palm and dropping her other arm to the table as they continued.

"You guys, cut it out," Yuzu scolded amongst the yelling, having taken her seat during the loud exchanges between the hot-headed males who didn't hear her.

Throughout the exchange, and even throughout dinner, Rukia remained quiet and kept to herself, feeling as though she were separate, behind a wall of glass and watching a scene set before her. A sense of familiarity filled the soul reaper, a small smile spreading thin on her chapped lips. This family was like a package; when someone bought it, they always got what they paid for. There were Ichigo and Isshin's daily, violent disputes, along with Yuzu's house-warming cooking and motherly behavior, and Karin's passive-aggressive cut-ins and instigations.

Rukia suddenly felt out of place. What was she doing here? This wasn't her true family, no matter how many hours Karin and Yuzu spent watching movies with their 'sister', no matter the high volumes of which Isshin's voice boomed about his 'third, adopted daughter'. She didn't _truly_ belong here.

She tried pushing the thought of out her mind. Nobody here, especially Ichigo, would appreciate her depressing thoughts. They would just tell her she was wrong. Maybe she was, but it sure didn't feel like it.

* * *

"Hope you sleep well, Rukia," Karin wished, hugging the short shinigami goodbye. Yuzu's hand rested on the side of the front door, waiting for her twin, keeping a smile on her face for the shinigami.

"Hope you two have fun at the movies," she croaked, tightening her hold on her blanket as Isshin's hand gently gripped her shoulder as he passed her, heading for the front door.

"Get a good night's rest and get it early, would ya?" he chuckled. "You look much more beautiful without those bags under her eyes." Her smiled at the compliment, wordlessly thanking him.

"Not like she hasn't been sleeping all day, every day," Ichigo mumbled from his lazy lean against the refrigerator, arms cross, typical scowl in place. Rukia simply rolled her wine-stained eyes at him and smiled back at the twins, about to be escorted by their father to the busy-and-bustling Center Point of Karakura Town. He normally wouldn't bother with the trip, had it not been a Friday night, one of the busiest nights in Karakura. There were just too many possible threats to his precious, defenseless daughters.

"I should be back at around ten-thirty," Isshin informed.

"Why so late?" Ichigo questioned, his eyes slightly wide at the information. Surely, they didn't need that much time to see a movie with some friends. It was barely seven o'clock.

"Mika-chan invited us to a sleepover!" Yuzu chimed excitedly, Ichigo just then noticing the matching duffel bags on both of their shoulders, Yuzu's emphasized by her hand running under the strap and her body's bucking to move it up higher on her shoulder.

It had seemed like forever since his sisters did anything outside of their home. He was happy they were getting out for a chance. Ichigo, with a lack of words, ran a hand through his hair. "Have fun, I guess."

"See you, Ichi-nii! Get well, Rukia!"

And with that, the three of them left, closing the door behind them, the girls' excited gushing about the movie they were about to see cut-off to Rukia's ears, muffled to Ichigo's.

"How's your fever?" Ichigo asked right away, as soon as his family was far enough down the driveway to his satisfaction. He pushed himself off the fridge, lifting a hand and brush under the strand of hair always in the middle of her face, cupping her forehead.

"It's fine," she whispered. "Why?"

"Liar," Ichigo smirked. "I just happened to buy you some ice cream and hid it in the back in case you pulled that bullshit. You're welcome." When he was done with his speech, a round, striped tub of Cookies and Cream was held in his hand before her, two spoons sticking out of the creamy delicacy. Rukia just stared at it while Ichigo lifted a hand to spoon some into his mouth.

"It's a damn gift," he grumbled forcefully, his mouth full of ice cream. "You take it and say thank you. Now get on the couch. We're watching a movie. I need to make sure you actually go to sleep tonight. You can't keep waking me up in the middle of the night." Rukia nodded after taking in his words. She didn't realize she kept him up at night. Guilt suddenly flushed around her stomach. Her fingers gripped her blanket even tighter.

She's stolen the blanket from Ichigo, too.

* * *

**Let me know que pienses. Shmanks ;D**

**.elric-logic**


	3. My Apologies

Hey, guys! elric-logic here. c:

This is definitely going to suck, for those of you who followed this story & waited so long for an update, & you come to see this...

I'm sorry to say it, but _Bronchitis_ is being discontinued, simply because it's been so long, but I have forgotten where I was going to go with the story (which is all my fault for waiting so long D:). I'm sorry T~T. Also, I sort of lost interest in it, which usually isn't a problem for me. :/

So, unfortunately, it is going to stay where it's at, unfinished, but I hope you enjoyed the pathetic shortness of 2 chapters while they lasted. :/ I'm going to keep it up for admiration, I suppose. I'm pretty disappointed that I didn't get to finish it. But I will be posting more stories, so all is not lost, I suppose.

I'm so sorry to have to let you guys down like this! D: I hope to bring you more delightful media in the future. {heart}

.elric-logic


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